


Weightless

by Ancalime1



Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27787747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ancalime1/pseuds/Ancalime1
Summary: How does Tron spend his time aboard the ISS?
Comments: 10
Kudos: 14





	Weightless

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys know me, you know I have to make a space AU out of every fandom I walk into. So... take astronaut Tron.
> 
> (Also: I realize that space suits are actually quite uncomfy. However, I like to pretend they aren't. Enjoy!)

Tron had a very guilty pleasure.

Well, not extremely guilty. Not in the sense that it was dirty or kinky, just in the sense that he was “wasting time and precious resources” and “damnit all, can’t you stick to the schedule?” were frequent complaints that he was used to hearing from the folks over in Houston.

Of course, spacewalking wouldn’t  _ have _ to have been a guilty pleasure if said folks at Houston had just given him the time he needed to meditate and float above the earth, infatuated by its beauty. 

Tron became an astronaut not because of Kevin Flynn’s drunken-yet-snide remark at a party in L.A. one night, nor even when Alan had begun to speculate if programs could even survive in space. Tron had been enamoured with spaceflight ever since he stepped out of the computer and into a starlit world, looking beyond to see yet another system outside of the user world. 

So when Flynn raised his eyebrows that night after prompting “are you serious?” to the poor program, he whistled and shoved his hands into his pockets, leaning against the doorframe that led upstairs to the arcade. “Well,” he hummed, rocking back and forth on his toes. “You’re gonna have to do a little something more than bat your eyes at NASA. Not just everyone gets to go to space, see. Not even programs, though I suppose that’s one point of interest you’ve got going for you.”

“Alan-1 did mention the possible ramifications of programs going into space, yes,” said Tron, nodding. 

A laugh. “Man, quit calling him Alan-1 already. He’s just Alan.”

Tron’s shoulders sank. “Sorry. Just Alan.” He pursed his lips and folded his arms. “Alright, so what do I need to do? I am prepared.”

Another whistle from Flynn. “I know, I know. Just slow down there, okay? Jeez.” His brow furrowed, and he began to stroke at his chin. “Huh. Well, you need at  _ least  _ a Master’s in… yeah, computer science oughta get you a ticket in there. And look at you, you’re from a computer. Should be a piece of cake.”

“I don’t see what cake has to do with… never mind.”

Flynn scoffed. “You got that right. Now how ‘bout a pilot’s license? You ever fly a Recognizer before?”

Tron’s face flushed. If he had circuits right now, they’d be blooming a bright neon blue. “I… No,” he said dolefully, eyes locking themselves on the floor. “Lightcycles were the only thing I had experience with and I’m… much more apprehensive about piloting these  _ human  _ machines.”

Flynn snorted. “Easy tiger, what do you think a space shuttle is, then?”

“A means to an end,” said Tron evenly, trying to mask the excited tremor in his voice. “The end is space.”

“Yeah, I gathered that. Listen. You don’t have to get a pilot’s license, but you better suck in your gut for these ‘human machines,’ because they sure as hell are gonna put you in the hot-seat.” Flynn paused, then slapped his forehead and laughed. “Man. We’re talkin’ about sending you to space. How crazy is that?”

“As ‘crazy’ as a User materializing in digital space,” said Tron, a timid grin on his face.

Flynn’s mouth twitched. “Huh. Suppose so,” he murmured, scratching the back of his head. A yawn widened across his face, and he looked at his wristwatch. “Man. Wouldja look at the time? Almost midnight already. Gotta get back before we turn into pumpkins, eh?”

“I… don’t know what that means,” admitted Tron.

“It’s from—ah, never mind. Let’s hit the road before I pass out.”

“Yes,” said Tron, beaming. “And you’ll promise to help me get to space?”

Flynn gave him a hard look, which very quickly softened into something resembling a smile. “Pfft. I’ll do my damnedest, kiddo.”

Flynn was there every moment. Well, not every moment, but nearly. Every night spent hunched over a computer preparing for an exam, every godless hour in the early morning when the coffee started to fail, every success, every loss. And losses for Tron were few and far between—he was meticulous, not even as programs were wont to be, but simply because he was Tron and he had a goal to achieve. Flynn also had a habit of tacking up each good grade on the fridge like some kind of proud parent, and Tron had to admit that the gesture was incredibly flattering and even a little motivating. 

Tron ended up not only getting his Master’s, but his PhD as well. This was a bit tricky for him, as he wasn’t the most open book in the world, and obtaining a PhD involved working closely with an advisor. And yet on the day he walked the stage, he ended up giving said advisor the biggest hug in the world. That in itself earned a bit of tagline, since not many folks could brag about getting hugged by a computer program—least of all by Tron.

All in all, it took a total of ten years for him to finish his studies and dissertation, and by then Flynn had become a bit more family-oriented. Young Sam Flynn was almost ten years old himself, and had taken to hanging around Tron and pestering him with questions about what the computer world was like, and if he’d “maybe like to go back some day.” When asked this, Tron himself began to realize that he’d been so wrapped up in his studies and his pining for space that he hadn’t really ever given the digital world the time of day that it perhaps deserved… but then again, that’s what Kevin Flynn was there for. The digital world was Flynn’s oyster, and space was Tron’s.

NASA was a fair bit gentler to him than Flynn made it out to be, perhaps because sending a program to space  _ did  _ have its novelty perks. And yet, Tron seemed to move through the application process and astronaut corps all on his own. He was intelligent, fit, and could handle extreme environment training like it was a game of catch. The only thing that wanted improvement in his résumé was his ability to work with others, as he had an unfortunate if impressive knack of handling situations all by his lonesome. Still, he was kind (if somewhat reserved), and never lost his temper. That alone seemed to set him apart from his fellow candidates.

A total of two years in passing finally found him aboard the ISS, with a decidedly skeleton crew of five people total, including him. He was well-liked and performed his tasks according to schedule, but he was a bit of a dreamer and tended to hover around the cupola when the rest of his crewmates convened for food and recreation. One of his favorite pastimes was to fold his legs inwards and just watch… watch as the earth scrolled by below him, the water glistening like a crystalline mirror beneath a halo of clouds. 

That was just one of his guilty pleasures. The second involved a space suit.

The bulky EMU suits were stored in the  _ Quest  _ Airlock, which hosted spacewalks for both EMUs and Russian Orlan suits. He was  _ supposed _ to be sleeping at this particular point in time, but… well, he couldn’t sleep anyways, so why not perform a quick little spacewalk? 

He shuffled into the Lower Torso Assembly with ease, but the huge, marshmallow-like Upper Torso was somewhat trickier to put on by himself. And yet, when the seals were finally clasped together, he felt a wave of relaxation crash into him as the heaviness of the suit settled onto his joints. The suit itself was actually quite comfortable, like the inside of a big, fluffy snowsuit, if a little inflexible. Still, he cuddled up into it like a bunny in a blanket and prepared to prebreathe for the next two hours and twenty minutes.  _ A quick nap in a snuggly suit full of oxygen, _ he thought to himself as he relaxed into the suit. 

After this, he pulled himself through the dimly-lit airlock chamber and to the first seal. It opened with a pressurized  _ hiss _ , and he fumbled his way through to the next and final seal. Inhaling deeply, he opened the airlock and floated outside. 

Gracefully he drifted away from the space station, his tether unfurling at his waist and tumbling like a ribbon into the weightless black. He sighed and closed his eyes, allowing gravity to lull him along like a lazy planet in orbit. He never fully enjoyed the feeling of weightlessness in freefall unless he was on one of his spacewalks, and this was no exception. The heaviness on his chest dissipated and the crushing feeling of having bones shackled by flesh was no more—at least in this moment, in this rare fleeting time spent drifting above the earth. 

He spent the next few hours like this, floating in absolute bliss. His comms had been turned off (against orders), but he was prepared to deal with the backlash after the fact. For now, he allowed himself to enjoy the sweet silence that hugged each breath, and the beauty of the earth turning gently beneath him. 

As the time ticked on, he gradually became aware that he really ought to be going back in now, in order to catch a few hours of sleep before the next shift. He sighed and whispered a mournful “goodbye” to the golden earth below him, then carefully pulled himself back into the  _ Quest  _ Airlock.

As he climbed inside, his eyelids fluttered to a dreamy close. He hugged his puffy, suited knees and gently floated inside the airlock, sleep cascading onto him like an enchanting waterfall. He thought about the fifteen years it had taken him to get to this point, the long nights fretting over coding, the distant joys of receiving praise from his professors. How long ago it had all seemed, and yet here he was, drifting in space all because of it. He could have cried with relief if he hadn’t been so sleepy—and in any case, he was far too content. So he instead settled for curling up in his space suit and softly floated besides the airlock, thinking about how lucky he was, to be the first program to have traversed to a starry world beyond the User one. This brought a smile to his lips, and plunged him into the best night of sleep he had ever had in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys liked!! As always, comments and kudos are always super appreciated <3


End file.
